


For Old Times Sake

by missema



Series: In Modern Kirkwall [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Angst, Cheating, Divorce, Ex Sex, Exes, F/M, Post-Divorce, Pregnant Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:06:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6157549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Side story to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/267405/chapters/560203">At the Viscount's Keep Chapter 34</a></p><p>Nori asked Bran what the worst thing he ever did was, and he told her he slept with his ex-wife. His former wife, who married immediately after divorcing him and was pregnant with a child that wasn't his. It sounds so salacious when he tells Nori, but when it happened, he was just as lonely and confused as anyone in his situation could be.</p><p>Chronologically this story is the first set in the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/14869">Modern Kirkwall AU </a>, but it won't make sense without reading <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/267405/chapters/420450">At the Viscount's Keep </a> first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Old Times Sake

Kirkwall was sweating under unusually warm spring weather, with temperatures already hitting records for heat though summer was still some weeks off. It boded ill for summer, promising a hot season to come. Bran was perspiring in his car as he pulled up to the drive. Jane wanted to speak with him about Jason. This wasn't the first time he'd seen her since the divorce was finalized, but each encounter was strange and awkward. His now former wife was free from him, remarried and about seven months pregnant.

Bran's heart hurt just thinking about the situation. Jane had been so unhappy at the end of their marriage that she'd began her relationship with her new husband before properly ending it with Bran. That stung, but logically he could understand it. There were other less than logical parts of him that were bruised, furious and disappointed in both of them for the way it turned out. No one liked being cheated on, and the proof of his cuckolding was there for all to see. Bran hadn't been with Jane for well over a year as their marriage disintegrated, but here she was, pregnant. There was no way that child could be his, and everyone involved knew it.

Their twelve year old son, Morgan Jason, was angry with both of them, but primarily his mother. He'd asked the magistrate if he could just live with his father, emphatic about telling the court about how much he didn't want another brother or sister. The magistrate that had presided over their dissolution had permitted Jane only a weekend a month and two weeks during the summer at Jason's request. That too saddened Bran. Though his marriage was a failure, he had no desire to deprive Jane of their son. He could have used the help too -- he was just so close to landing the a promotion that would put him even closer to the Viscount -- but he didn't want to force Jason to spend time with his mother before he was ready to forgive. They would both resent it. He'd hired a live in assistant to help, since Bran's hours at work grew increasingly long. At least Jason liked the middle aged Mrs. Abernathy. She'd become an indispensable part of his household in a few short months.

He rang the bell and was admitted, Jane giving him a small smile as she let him into the living room. It was quiet, save for the hum of the air conditioner. She was always overheated when she was pregnant with Jason, and Bran could tell by her attire that it was the same with this baby. She wore a short day dress, something that looked like it might have been from before her pregnancy, but he couldn't tell. Funny how foreign yet familiar she was to him. Her dark brown hair was pulled away from her face in a ponytail, longer than he'd ever seen it since they were teenagers. But he didn't know her as well, had spent the last two years arguing with her and watching her slip away as he tried to do all he knew to provide for his family. It didn't work.

"Bran, I'm glad you came," Jane said.

"You look well," he said. Pregnancy suited her, as it had the first time around.

"So do you," she said. He doubted it, but appreciated the lie. "Robert is away on business this week. He had to move some meetings so that he can take off my last month," she explained as Bran looked around the house. She said her husband's name the Orlesian way, dropping the hard t sound at the end of the name. He wondered what sort of business might lure Robert away from his pregnant new wife so easily, but pushed the thought away.

It was a nice place, not an overly large house but in a good neighborhood. Fenced in grass yards and dogs and all of that. Bran never liked the outskirts of town. Had Jane always wanted this, even when he'd been buying the townhouse and talking about being in the city for his job? Why hadn't she said something?

"I wanted to talk about MJ. Or I guess it's just Jason now. I mean, since he told me he wants to be called Jason from now on." Jane looked a little put out, but Bran said nothing. Jason had told him that at the beginning of the school year when there was a girl named Morgan in his class.

Bran waited for her to go on, but Jane put her hand over her belly and made a pained expression. When she looked up to meet his eyes, she gave him a true smile. "Sorry, baby's been kicking a lot today."

He nodded, swallowing back the feeling in his throat. That wasn't his child. They both knew that. Part of him wanted to think it was, but when he'd wanted another she hadn't, and they hadn't brought up the issue in years. Jason was twelve. The last time they'd talked about it, he was eight. There were so many things that had come between them, but he doubted that she'd done this purposefully. Fate was a disguise for what the Maker willed.

There must have been an indication of his confusion, of the hurt he felt on his face because Jane looked away from him. She started talking again, not facing him. "Jason doesn't want to meet the baby. Can you talk to him about it? He's not listening to me, and Robert just gets nowhere with him."

"He's confused and angry," Bran reminded her. "It will take time."

Jane looked up at him, her dark eyes meeting his. She suddenly looked too tired, too fragile for all this. "I know, but I don't want him to miss out."

"I'll try, Jane. Maybe the baby will soften him up." Bran sighed, one hand running through his hair. It wasn't going to be easy. He'd made sure Jason spoke with a counselor, but they were adamant about not forcing him to accept the situation right away.

Jane gave a hard laugh. "Yeah, I'm not sure about that. He was pretty convincing up there with the magistrate. At first I thought that maybe you had coached him." She averted her gaze again, shame writ on her face. "But you wouldn't, I know that. He's just so mad at me now." She reached up to wipe away some tears, then put her hand back on her belly. "You should feel this, the baby's practically dancing in there."

Without warning she reached out and took Bran's hand in hers, placing it right where the baby was kicking. He felt the jabs of movement through the cotton dress, the uneven little jolts that made Jane start. Bran smiled, how could he not? It wasn't his child, Jane wasn't his wife, yet here he was anyway with her hand on top of his. If he closed his eyes, he would be twenty-one again, and this would be Jason they were waiting on. Bran didn't close his eyes.

Jane slid his hand down over her stomach, past the roundness and down further. At first, he thought she was just guiding him to another spot to feel the baby, but she slid their hands under her skirt. Her eyes were steady now, locked into his. Neither one of them looked away as he touched her skin, the warmth of the juncture between her legs. When he stopped trailing his fingers across the taut skin under her belly, she sighed.

"I miss you," Jane breathed.

In that moment, he knew, Bran just knew. He was going to fuck her. Everything in him wanted her, recalled just how responsive she was, knew all the things Jane liked. Chemistry was never their problem, and the evidence of that was his growing erection, the wetness his finger found when he delved beneath the cloth barrier of her panties. When he let his hand delve further, Bran heard her moan, a sound so lost to him yet so familiar he almost stopped his hand. Almost. Maker, he still loved Jane.

Bran let his hands work of their own accord. They knew Jane, and what she liked. If he thought too hard about this, he might stop and he desperately didn't want to stop. She kissed him, her hot, wet mouth landing on his with such force it nearly rocked him backwards on his heels. They were still standing in her living room, but he didn't know the layout of her house to lead her to someplace else. The curtains were open, but Bran couldn't bring himself to care. When she pulled away from his mouth to breathe, he spoke up.

"Janey," he gasped. She looked up at him, wariness making her eyes narrow. "The curtains. Someone might see."

She tipped her head back, reveling as his fingers found their rhythm around her clit. As his fingers circled, Bran chased her moans, speeding up when that was what make her most vocal. She came hard on his hand, leaning her forehead against the wall of his chest as she caught her breath.

"No one could see me behind you," she said. Her words were almost lost as she caught her breath. For a moment he thought she was going to say more, but she took his hand instead.

They went into the dining room, and she discarded her panties on the floor with a deft shimmy and got on the table. It gleamed polished hardwood under her naked ass. He would have gone had she made him leave, would have left if guilt had overtaken her after their simple interlude in the living room, but it didn't. She didn't ask him to go -- she didn't say anything at all. Jane just wanted, and maybe after all this time she was getting what she wanted from him, at least in part. Bran couldn't know her reasons, but appreciated that she wasn't going to stop whatever madness they were both indulging.

He shed his trousers, boxers and suit jacket, but before he could unbutton his shirt, she beckoned him to her. He needed a condom. There hadn't been a relationship since his wife had left him, not with the hours he worked and a son to care for, but there had been encounters. Mostly paid for by the Office of the Viscount under the entertainment budget, but once or twice he'd slept with women that he'd went on halting, tentative dates with. He wasn't really ready to date, but too lonely not to try it.

She saw him hesitate and pulled her dress off over her head. Her nipples were incredibly dark, large, beautiful. His briefcase had condoms. Bran motioned for her to wait, went back into the living room as quickly as he could and got them. He was rolling it onto his cock when he came back into the room. He breathed a sigh of relief when he stood between Jane's legs and she leaned back, flat palms against the tabletop, opening herself to him. Every moment away from her was a chance for either of them to change their mind, to back out of this illicit madness. He didn't want that.

Jane looked up at him, all needy dark eyes and warm smiles. He pulled her to the very edge of the table and then hilted himself in her in one stroke. They both cried out as he did, her mewl mixing with his low growl. This was heaven, surely it had to be. Bran began moving at once, not taking time to savor anything or think beyond what he could feel at that moment. It was so hot and wet and familiar and Maker, it felt good. She couldn't really move to counter his strokes, not as she once had, but he found his pleasure in the way she tightened around him, the way her eyes closed and her head fell back between her shoulders. Yes, he would always remember this.

But all too soon, their coupling was coming to a conclusion. Black edges around his vision, and Jane tightening around him again and as he made his shallow, quick thrusts into her. Bran felt the sweep of heat through him, the one that would carry him to pick up his pace and chase his inevitable climax. Unexpectedly, Bran felt Jane come again. He hadn't attended to her again, not after feeling her pulsing onto his hand in the other room. Sweat ringed the collar of the shirt he'd been too determined to bother taking off. He came with a hard growl, the sound making Jane open her languid eyes and look at him, but Bran didn't care. His eyes fell close as hers opened and he rode the wave of euphoria that rocked through him.

But when he came back to himself, Bran was immediately sober. Jane was still giving him that look, too sharp and clear for his liking. He was softening inside of her, his body spent but his mind tense.

She backed away, sliding backwards on the tabletop and slipping the dress over her head again. Without thinking about it, Bran reached down and picked up her panties, handing them to her wordlessly. They redressed in silence, and he felt the weight of shame settling on him. He disposed of the condom in the kitchen trash, coming back in to find her standing, fully dressed with one hand on her belly.

"You don't have to worry about Robert," Jane said. "He's very,"

"Naive?" Bran tried, but Jane ignored him.

"Orlesian," she finished. "He likely expected this. He's been divorced. We've talked about it a lot. It's hard to let go."

"This was just letting go?" Bran asked, turning back to face her.

"Maybe. I don't know. I missed you. I probably will later on too, but I'm not your wife anymore. I just didn't want you to have any guilt. Robert will know and he and I will go on." Jane shivered as she said it, and he wondered if she really believed her own words.

"Is that it then? Just you and Robert and it doesn't matter that you fucked me on your dining room table?"

Jane looked warily up at him, but didn't speak. She knew him too well. He would argue her into a corner and she would redirect their argument to something else, so they could spin around again. It had been like this when they were married, at least for the last few years. She just looked at him, all big, dark bovine eyes and meaningful silence. She wasn't going to argue with him anymore. He didn't get that from her.

All at once, he remembered that he wasn't her husband and never would be again. Bran blew out a long breath. "Janey, I'll talk to Jason." He ran a hand through his hair, unsure of what else to say.

"Bran, I...appreciate it." She looked like she wanted to say more, but this was growing awkward. If she thanked him for the sex, he would just feel like she'd pitied him. Gently, she patted his arm, a gesture that seemed too chaste after what they'd just shared. "Come on, I'll walk you out."

When they got to his car, Jane stood on her toes to kiss his jaw. "I do love you, Bran, but I can't be married to you. We didn't fit anymore. We were so young, too young, I think. I hope you understand."

He reached down and hugged her. For all his faults and spite, he couldn't bring himself to add this afternoon to it. They'd shared something again that he thought would be gone from his life forever. He would always love her, in some small part of his heart.

Bran muttered some goodbye and got into his car. He drove all the way back to his house before he realized it. Once in the garage, he set his head against the wheel. Maker, how had he managed to tear his heart in two again? He had to stop seeing Jane, even if it was just for a few months. From now on, his nanny could deal with her and relay messages. Bran took a few more deep breaths and then steeled his resolve and got out of the car. He needed to take a shower and erase her from his skin, and every other place he'd let her get to in that moment. Bran clenched his jaw. No regrets. Jane wouldn't have any, he hoped, so neither would he. It was just for old times sake, he supposed.


End file.
